


animals

by silverkatana



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 02:30:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20268553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverkatana/pseuds/silverkatana
Summary: in which heechul and jungsoo have some spare time.





	animals

**Author's Note:**

> imported from aff

It wraps around him so tight and stifling he can almost feel it; his throat constricts and he forces down saliva harshly, ignoring the way his heart hammers so loud against his sternum that the rhythm of his racing pulse is almost palpable in the warm air, his teeth grazing the bottom of his lips as slender fingers run their way languidly down his exposed skin and renders shivers shuddering through him from the top of his spine all the way down his back.

A groan escapes his lips, a halfway mix of a whine and a breathless rush of air, an almost sinful sound that trembles through his larynx as he embraces the soft touches trailing across his body. “How much time do we have?” he whispers, never taking his gaze off the one standing bare centimetres away from him.

“Enough,” Heechul responds swiftly, and anything else he wants to say decides to promptly exit from his mind the moment Heechul’s lips, soft but roughly-mannered like waves crashing against a shore, slam upon his own. In the shadows of the room they blended together in the same perfect harmony that they’ve created - Heechul’s hand is against his neck now, gripping tightly but gently, and in the next moment his tongue is in his mouth, wet and writhing and better than anything he has ever known.

They pull away, gasping, lips glossy with saliva - Heechul is a mess, he muses to himself, yet when the man leans forward so their faces are only inches away from one another’s and he can catch the faint whiff of peach blossoms that Heechul always seems to have about him, he lets his eyes flutter shut. Heechul’s breath is warm against his cheek in the short moments of motionlessness that hang in the silence of the room; then Heechul is kissing him, again, gently at first like the caress of sunlight against the petals of a blooming flower - he kisses back, and the next thing he knows his spine is pressed against the wall and Heechul’s lips are upon his with such ardour that he can barely think straight and his entire world spins around him.

In his flickering seconds of delirious dizziness, he’s somewhat aware of the way his own fingers crawl up Heechul’s shoulders and neck to tangle themselves in his hair, wrapping themselves in the slightly wavy, soft strands and tugging just enough to elicit a moan from Heechul that quivers from his throat across his lips unto his own. In return Heechul skims slender fingers over his skin with a touch that might as well be likened to the fire that sparks possessed, fireworks fizzling to life across the parts of skin that his fingers brush over.

“How much time do we have?” he breathes again, running his fingers across Heechul’s jaw and resting them upon his cheek.

“Enough,” the reply that comes is breathless, almost, “In the end, if it’s me and you, Jungsoo, we’ll always have enough time.” His hands drop from Jungsoo’s neck to lower down, tracing patterns down his side and continuing a lazy trail of the fingers down until they rest at the area where skin is covered by fabric.

Jungsoo’s breath hitches and catches in his throat, and there’s a momentary lapse of silence as he struggles to find the thoughts he wants to express. “Heechul - are we really doing this here?” His words come out fragmented, airy, his mind turning into little more than muscles made of rock at the feeling of Heechul’s fingers beginning to unbuckle his belt.

His affirmation comes in the form of his belt falling to the floor, followed moments later by the fabric that once covered the bottom parts of his body. He’s plunged for the second time into a universe of giddy pleasure, enough to make him unsteady on his feet and uneven in his breathing, as Heechul’s touch grazes the inside of his thighs and moves to the side, just slightly, just enough to brush across skin that makes his back arch and his teeth press against his own lip in a futile attempt to suppress sound from leaking through.

“We have time,” Heechul whispers to him, “But not a lot.”

Their bodies are so close they’re practically one solid writhing form; Heechul grabs hold of his waist and turns him so he’s pressed against the wall with his back to Heechul - and then Heechul enters him one finger at a time, and he feels himself come undone, like threads coming loose. He allows himself to fall apart in the intoxicating rhythm that the two of them are plunged into; Heechul splays his fingers, and a growl ripples through Jungsoo’s throat deep and low, filled with nothing but pure animalistic desire.

“Then hurry up,” Jungsoo hisses out, and Heechul complies almost immediately. He moves back for a moment, long enough for Jungsoo to notice the absence of warmth behind him - and in the next breath, Heechul grips his hips tight, fingernails leaving little half-moon shaped marks.

He barely has time to draw a second breath before Heechul leans forward, a smirk playing in every uttered syllable of his. “With pleasure.”

Heechul plunges into him, and a sound halfway between a shriek and a moan pulsates through his mouth as he bucks against Heechul with a partly-frantic desire for more.

A groan escapes Heechul’s lips, his eagerness reflected in the quickening thrusts of his body against Jungsoo’s. Sweet spasms wrack their bodies as they bind together in a mess of limbs and shuddering moans lost in their own hastily-woven cocoon of pleasure and ecstasy; their pants and half-whispers of one another’s names rise in the air, a saccharine symphony derived from diabolic carnalities. Their hips move in an intrinsic rhythm with such harmony that they make animalistic fervour appear to be a consummate dance of two saints, albeit stripped and pressed together in the intertwinement of two naked bodies craving for one another’s pleasure.

“Jungsoo,” the name flies from Heechul’s lips, a guttural sound that sends goosebumps across his skin and pleasure across his veins, a pair of syllables that should mean nothing more than just a way of addressing oneself and yet sound like the most lascivious but beautiful thing Jungsoo has ever heard. “We’re almost out of time.”

In the shadowed confines of the room they come completely undone in this dance of animalistic pleasure, in this labyrinth of breaking and fixing each other all at once, in this entanglement of sinful desires that taste sweeter than an angel’s lips. Heechul releases his load first, spilling thick ivory in a liquid mess, a splatter of sticky cloud-white across surfaces - against the wall in torpid trails, warm against the inside of Jungsoo’s thighs and down the exposed skin of his legs.

Jungsoo follows soon after, a moan slipping free from his larynx as his spine curves instinctively - on the walls the white tendrils mix together and slip down slowly, carefreely, messily.

“I think we’d best clean up here before we leave,” Heechul’s breath is still warm against his ear, and he feels the familiar chills sparking down his veins like fireworks cracking against a night sky.

“Let’s,” he agrees, his voice coming out steadier than he expects. He grabs hold of his pants first, carelessly tossed aside, and wears them, ignoring Heechul’s gaze that’s strong enough to burn through his back. (Or rather, a little lower than that, because Heechul isn’t really making his staring discreet.)

“By the way,” Heechul comments almost off-handedly as a production team member opens the door and Jungsoo has to slam his back against the wall to hide any remaining traces of evidence, “We should do that again sometime.”

The production team member reminds them that they have to proceed for hair and makeup in a couple of minutes before the shoot, and Heechul snickers. Poor stylists; they would have no idea how exactly their hair got so messy.

Jungsoo watches as the door inches close again before a chuckle bubbles from him and his lips crease upwards in mirth. “Yeah, let’s.”


End file.
